


The Feel of Your Heart

by PocketofPersons



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Abelism, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, And Jean is still an asshole, But it's ok cause Marco might like him one day, F/F, F/M, In which Marco is deaf, Lots of Cursing, M/M, Possible Rating Change, mainly from Jean, some homophobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-20
Updated: 2014-09-05
Packaged: 2018-02-13 22:55:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2168334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PocketofPersons/pseuds/PocketofPersons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Hello?? Are you gonna check out or not?” The guy doesn't respond to me, and instead drops his head to look at something in his hands. I let out a loud huff. Stupid fucking pretentious dicks think they rule the whole world. “Dude, move! There are other people who have places to be. Solve your damn crisis away from here.” Again, no response. That's it, this fucker's gonna listen to me whether he likes it or not.</p><p>It's not until after I've already put a hand on his shoulder and he's half-way turned around when I notice the hearing aid.</p><p>Shit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

 

I'm so over this goddamn school year.

 

It's three weeks from first semester finals, and here I am struggling to even pay attention in the one class I should be acing: painting. It's not my fault that my damn brain and hand can't cooperate with each other. Every time I set the brush to the easel, it's like my hand forgets what the hell it is I'm supposed to be doing. My teacher has been noticing it, too, cause she keeps tutting and shaking her head every time she checks on my progress. Like, what does she want me to do?

 

I'm halfway to giving up and packing my shit up and leaving when she stops by me for a fourth time and sighs. “Jean,” she starts, and already I'm scowling. “You need to stop holding back. The assignment is simple enough, pick a subject and stick with it. You have three more you need to do after this, you know.”

 

God, I wish I had something to punch right now. Instead of going off on her, though, I grit my teeth and shrug. “What do you think I'm trying to do?” I glance back at her over my shoulder, only to see that she's already moved on to the girl next to me. I bite the inside of my cheek to prevent myself from possibly punching a hole through the canvas.

 

Finally, she announces that class is over, and our final project must be done by finals week. I pack up my supplies and dip out of there, glad that it's my only class for the day. After yesterday's “practice” test in math, my brain is basically as good as oatmeal- not good at all.

 

I'm barely out of the building when my phone begins to ring. I fish it out of my pocket, and grimace when I see who it is. My mom feels the need to call me every-fucking-day, even though most of the time I don't pick up. Next semester, I decide, I'm not going to let her know my schedule. Isn't college supposed to be the chance to get away from your family?

 

Nevertheless, I answer.

 

“Heeeey, mom.” I greet, trying to sound more excited to hear from her than I actually am.

 

“Jeanbo!” She breathes. I can practically hear her clutching the phone with both of her hands. “Why didn't you call me back yesterday? I waited for hours!”

 

I run a hand through my hair and stop walking to sit down on one of the benches. It looks like I'm gonna be here a while. “Sorry,” I apologize, though I don't mean it. “You know it's close to finals week! I've been busy studying and trying to get these art projects done.” And by that, I mean I've been busy procrastinating and playing Assassin's Creed III. “I keep my phone on silent when I'm studying so I don't lose my flow.”

 

There. Make her think she has a good little student who's worried about his grades. I mean, I am concerned about them but I don't try nearly as hard as I let her believe.

 

I hear a sigh on the other line and the sound of the sink running. “I know, it's just... I wanna make sure my little baby is doing okay by himself!”

 

Oh, God, gag me. I'm twenty years old, I don't need my mom babysitting me all the time. She has another kid she can suffocate with her so-called motherly love.

 

The conversation continues on, and mainly consists of her harassing me to come home once the semester is finished, since the holidays are meant for family and not to be spent alone in a dorm. I really don't want to go home, mainly because my family can be so damn annoying, but I tell her I'll think about it so she'll at least have some peace of mind.

 

She finally lets me go, and I make a mental note to find a special ring tone for her that's hard to hear, so that way I can avoid her without feeling as guilty as straight up ignoring her.

 

I gather up all my stuff, and I'm almost back to the dorms when my phone buzzes again. I curse under my breath and pull it out, only to see a text from my roommate, Connie.

 

**From: Connie**

**hey man!!!!! were out of bread n toilet pepper n pepsi**

**stop by the store, will ya? i have to stay behind n talk**

**to 1 of the professers**

 

**From: Connie**

**paper* dammit i dont think toilet pepper exists yet**

 

I'm gonna cry. All I want to do is go to my room and sleep. But I know if he comes back to the room and there's no Pepsi, he's gonna throw a tantrum. I love the guy, known him since high school, but he could be such a damn baby sometimes.

 

So, being the awesome and amazing friend I am, I turn around and head to the parking lot to get my car.

 

Once I've arrived, I notice that it's a zoo. No, that's an understatement, it looks like everyone in the whole city thinks this is the only grocery store there is around here. I have to park in the way back of the lot, and I'm not even gonna pretend like I love exercising. I'm a damn art student, I want the easiest route possible when it comes to being physical.

 

Inside the store isn't much better, but I really shouldn't be surprised. I grab one of the few shopping carts left and navigate through the ever-growing crowd. There are screaming children and mothers ignoring them, employees standing in the middle of the aisles trying to restock products, and it's a feat in and of itself that my head doesn't explode right then and there.

 

Connie is so gonna owe me.

 

Even though I wanna get out of there ASAP, I go through to pick out some things for dinner tonight. Last I checked the freezer, we had half a pint of ice cream and some ridiculously old frozen egg rolls. I go down the frozen aisle and pick out a few pizzas, some wings, and more ice cream.

 

Once I'm satisfied with my pile of heart-attack-inducing food, I go back to the front to check out. The lines for the regular check outs are too long, so I go over to self check out instead. I wait behind one with only one man who doesn't have any groceries. I wait patiently for about two seconds before I start getting annoyed.

 

“Hello?? Are you gonna check out or not?” The guy doesn't respond to me, and instead drops his head to look at something in his hands. I let out a loud huff. Stupid fucking pretentious dicks think they rule the whole world. “Dude, move! There are other people who have places to be. Solve your damn crisis away from here.” Again, no response. That's it.

 

It's not until after I've already put a hand on his shoulder and he's half-way turned around when I notice the hearing aid.

 

Shit.

 

The man looks down at me, brown eyes wide. Immediately I back away, my mouth opening and closing like a damn fish. “Uh- shit- um-” I sputter. I feel the blush creep up my neck.

 

“I'm so sorry! I didn't realize anyone was behind me!” He apologizes, his hands moving in odd gestures as he speaks. His face his red, and the freckles are quickly swallowed by the blush. I want to say that it's not his fault, but I can't get my damn mouth to form a coherent sentence.

 

So, I do the logical think and book it the hell out of there, leaving my groceries behind. Fuck trying to buy anything, everyone in there saw me make an ass of myself. Connie can go if he's so damn desperate.

 

When I get in my car, I let out a defeated cry and rest my head on my steering wheel. Good job, Kirstein! You've managed to make it almost the whole day without looking like a complete and total douche bag! This is literally why you only have, like, four friends. You just yelled at a fucking deaf person because you can't be patient for more than five seconds.

 

If I wasn't before, I'm definitely going to hell now.

 

* * *

 

When I get back to the dorms and Connie realizes I'm empty handed, he lets out an obnoxious, long groan.

 

“Duuuuuuude what the hell are we supposed to do for toilet paper?” He whinges from the couch. Instead of indulging him, I go straight to my room. “Jeeeeeeeeeeeeeean!” He calls after me.

 

“Use some fucking paper towels or don't shit until tomorrow!” I yell back before locking myself away in my room. He may not have a lot of common sense, but he knows better than to bug me when my door is closed. I don't think I could tell him what happened, anyway.

 

* * *

 

My alarm goes off way too early the next morning. I barely manage to get myself out of bed and into the shower. Today I have three classes, and yeah they're kind of easy but _three_. There has to be a law against that or something.

 

I'm rinsing out my hair when the events of yesterday wash over me, and I nearly keel over. There's seriously no way I'm still freaking out about this. It's not like I'm ever gonna see the dude again, right? He's probably forgotten about it anyways. I just need to leave it behind and move on.

 

No, I can't, I'm such an asshole.

 

I mean who the hell goes and does that sort of shit to strangers? I could have just as easily tapped on his shoulder and asked him if he needed help checking out. I didn't have to completely blow a fuse and go ape shit on the guy. How do my friends put up with this?

 

I ponder my entire shitty existence while I finish getting ready. Connie is already up and moving in the other room, and I know he's gonna start banging on the door if I don't hurry up, so I do.

 

He says morning to me, and I manage something back before moving to the kitchen to make myself a quick pot of coffee before booking it to my history class. Lo and behold, there's no coffee. Awesome. Great. Fan-freaking-tastic. Just the start I needed to this day.

 

Connie materializes behind me then. “Yeah, we're out of coffee.”

 

“No shit Sherlock.” I bite back, shutting the cabinet with a little more force than necessary.

 

Connie rolls his eyes at me and moves to the living room, where he starts to put on his shoes and coat. “Let's stop by the student coffee shop on our way to class. They're pretty quick with orders.”

 

Reluctantly, I agree. Some coffee is better than no coffee, even if it means I arrive to my class a few minutes late.

 

* * *

 

The day passes by a bit less painful than yesterday, which is something I guess. I promised Connie that I would go to the store and actually pick up the things we needed (“I don't think I can hold my shit today, dude. We need TP” he'd said).

 

I'm nervous, though I know I shouldn't be. What are the odds that the guy would be there today, too? Pretty slim, I'd say. I try to shake the feeling, but something in my stomach grips onto it. I want to go back to the room and paint or something.

 

“No, Connie is really going to kill you this time if you come back with nothing.” I mutter to myself as I hoist myself out of my car. Besides, I need some coffee.

 

The store is a lot let crowded today, which I'm thankful for. Like yesterday, I grab a cart and start going down the short list I'd scribbled out during Chemistry. I'll do proper grocery shopping later on this weekend because I am _not_ in the mood for it right now. I'm gonna get coffee, frozen pizzas, TP, and Pepsi and then I am out of here.

 

I'm in the middle of looking through the different types of toilet paper (why the fuck are there so many kinds, anyways? Are people's asses _really_ that sensitive?) when I notice him. There he is, the guy from yesterday, scanning the products with some gun-looking thing. Just my luck. I try to hide the side of my face with one of the packs I'm currently holding as I begin plotting my escape plan. All I need to do is turn around and run like hell out of this aisle. Whatever pack I have in my hand is the pack Connie is gonna have to deal with.

 

Of course he would fucking work here. Of course. The closest grocery store to campus and the one guy I'm a real asshole to has to work here and be here every time I come. I know, it's only happened twice now, but I have a strong feeling that I'm gonna have to deal with this a lot more if I come back.

 

I'm choosing a different grocery store to shop at.

 

I turn on my heel, but as I do something stops me. That something is called my stupid conscience, and it's telling me to apologize for him. I really don't want to, though, because I know that it won't make any sense and I'll just look like a bigger douche, and that's the last thing I need.

 

No, no. I need to rip off the band-aid, that way the kid doesn't live the rest of his life in fear of people like me, or whatever could have possibly happened in his head yesterday.

 

I walk up to him, slowly, so he isn't startled by me. I almost say hey, but I remember just in time that, yes, he is _deaf_ you dumbass, he won't hear you. So, I do the next best thing and wave my hand near his head.

 

He looks up from the scanner in his hands, and hesitates before smiling at me. Dang, yeah, I definitely need to apologize. He looks... scared of me. I mean, this guy is like easily 4 inches taller than me and looks like he works out, yet somehow manages to look a bit threatened by me. He could probably throttle me if he wanted to, no questions asked.

 

“Do you need help with something?” He asks after a few moments of awkward silence. I blink a few times and shake my head. Focus, Kirstein.

 

“I-uh-” Come on, it really shouldn't be hard to say 'sorry for yesterday, I was a real douche and you can punch me if you want'. “C-can you, ah, shit-” I drop one of the packs of toilet paper, and it's him who bends down to pick it up. “Sorry. Uh, can you read lips?”

 

He gives me a funny look before nodding. “Yeah? That's how I hold conversations for this job?” He gestures to his dark green polo- the one he'd been wearing yesterday, now that I think about it- with an awkward half-grin.

 

I want to snap at him for being sarcastic, but I probably deserve it. I definitely deserve it.

 

“Right...” I nod, and take the toilet paper out of his hands. “I just wanted to say sorry about yesterday for, like, being a total dick. I seriously didn't know. I mean, I didn't even know you work here and-”

 

I stop mid-sentence because I notice that the absolute pompous asshat is _laughing_ at me behind his hand. Here I am trying to be nice for once in my life, and he's laughing at me for it. See? This is why I never try shit like this.

 

He must notice the scowl on my face for he composes himself then and shakes his head. “Sorry.” He giggles, and I can feel my frown intensify. “It's just you look so scared of me!” I open my mouth to protest, but once again I'm at a loss for words.

 

We stand awkwardly for a bit as his giggles die down again. “It's okay, man, really! You can't tell from behind that I'm deaf. If you could, that would be one heck of a talent, eh?”

 

I feel a small weight lift off my shoulders, but I don't let myself show it. I'm still pissed that he laughed at me. “Well, still.” I mutter and look down. “I felt kinda bad, y'know-”

 

“Wait, sorry, could you look at me when you're speaking?” He interrupts, putting a hand out. “I can't read lips when you're looking down.”

 

Duh, Jean. Even your little sister would know that. “Right, sorry.” I mutter, looking up from the ground. “I said I felt kinda bad, cause I just dropped my shit and ran out of here.”

 

This causes him to chuckle again. Man does this guy laugh a lot 'cause that's, like, the eighth time. He must have killer abs or something.

 

“Yeah, it kind of surprised me. But like I said, it's okay, all is forgiven, you can rest easy.” He assures me with a brighter smile, and I can't help but give him a small smile too.

 

“Awesome! Great, yeah, I just didn't want you to think I had some sort of death wish on you or anything for being in my way.” I shrug a little bit.

 

“Well, I'm glad I don't have to worry about that.” He tosses the scanner up and catches it a few times before looking over his shoulder. “I need to get back to work before my boss comes over and chews me out.” He looks back at me, a bit more apologetic.

 

“Oh, right right. See you around man.” I nod, feeling embarrassed again for no reason. I turn to leave and manage to get a few steps away when he says something. I turn and tilt my head. “Sorry, what?”

 

“I said thank you.” He repeats, and I could be going crazy but I swear I see him blush.

 

“Y-Yeah, no problem!” I nod. Before I leave, though, I take the chance to look down at his name tag. No harm in knowing the guy's name, right? I squint until the letters are visible. Marco, eh?

 

What a dorky ass name.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm screwed when it comes to a lot of things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Any knowledge I have on ASL as well as the deaf community comes from both personal experience and research off the internet. If there's anything on here that is wildly inaccurate, please let me know (nicely) in the comments below, send me a message, w/e!

Thank the heavens above for weekends. There's something about them that make me feel like I'm not going to totally fail at everything I ever attempt in my life. In fact, I feel so great that I'm gonna take another chance at my painting final. There's gotta be something I can work off, any vague idea at all. I need to find a subject and stick with it and paint four different things on the subject, super simple right? I could literally choose something like the ocean and showcase its different states...

 

But that's boring as hell and the guy who sits in front of me is already doing that. I'm sure my professor would notice and I'd fail, and that's if I'm lucky. Plus it's so damn obvious of a subject to do. She always forces us to think “deep” and “abstractly” and normally I can do that no problem, easy peasy lemon frickin' squeezy, but for some reason my brain just isn't working.

 

Thus the reason why I have papers everywhere. It looks like the ceiling leaks crumpled balls of my failed ideas. I write down a topic, sketch a few outlines, realize how damn lame it is, and trash it. Almost three hours this has been going on and I'm gonna need a new sketch pad if I continue to go down this path.

 

Fuck it. I need a break before I lose my mind. Isn't there a saying about how something comes to you when you're not looking? I don't know. I  _need_ a break. But first, to clean up this mess before Connie gets back from doing god-knows-what (not that he's much cleaner then me but hey, I'm not a total asshole).

 

It takes nearly two old grocery bags to hold all of that paper, and I feel the regret set in. I could have used the backside of each paper. I stare at the bags, debating on whether to salvage them. Meh, that takes too much work right now and all I wanna do is veg out. It can wait til later.

 

Right now, it's time for Assassin's Creed. That game has been neglected for almost a month now, and I think I deserve to play it for a little bit. Like, an hour or two or three, that's it. I'll even set a timer and everything so I know I have to get off and try to do some work. I pull out my phone and set an alarm for 4, and proceed to indulge myself.

 

Connie comes in after a while, and I pause long enough for him to grab us both something from the fridge. I thank him with a nod, and it's back to killing off Templars.

 

“Give up for the day, then?” He asks, glancing over at me.

 

The day? “What are you talking about? What ti- Shit shit shit!” And desynchronized. For the fifth time. Awesome. I pause the game and take a drink. “What time is it?”

 

He looks at his phone. “It's almost 6:15.”

 

What? No way. “I was just taking a break, I had an alarm set and everything...” I pull out my phone, unlock it, and almost throw it across the room. The screen is still on setting the actual alarm. Only I would forget to actually  _set_ it. “Well, I guess I am done for the day.”

 

“You should, I don't know, like, look through the dictionary. Open it to a random page, pick a number, and count the words to that number. Boom, your subject.” Connie suggests with a shrug. “That's what I did.”

 

It had the potential to be a good idea, but with my luck I know I'd get a word like faeces. I'm sure my professor would absolutely love that.

 

“Yeah, maybe. Are you hungry?” I ask, trying to defer the conversation. Of course, it works like a charm. Say anything about food and Connie will forget the world.

 

We decide on pizza, seeing as we're both too lazy to cook half of the time. He says it's on him, since I've been running to the store. I don't argue; who argues when free pizza is involved?

 

I go back to playing as he orders, my final now pushed to the back of my mind.

 

* * *

 

Sunday comes with more homework for me to do, and it's math. So, more like torture. What's worse is that I don't have a frickin' clue as to what's even going on. Why are there so many letters? Why does Johnny-what's-his-face feel the need to buy 500 melons and fit them into barrels?  _Why the hell do I need to complete this stupid course I am a goddamn art major I don't need this shit._

 

Connie isn't any help either. He's more clueless than I am at is sort of junk. I don't know how he's even passing at this point.

 

You know what? Screw Johnny and his melons. He isn't gonna eat them all, and I'm sure if he's buying 500 he doesn't have any friends who would eat them. I'd rather go grocery shopping at this point. That's exactly what I'm gonna do, actually. We're running out of food thanks to the human vacuum I call a roommate and it's my turn to pay.

 

I go to the kitchen to find out what we're out of, what I want more of, and what we definitely don't need. Our cabinets are pretty bare at this point, not that they're ever really that full. We're too lazy to wait on anything that takes longer than 15 minutes to cook, unless it's pizza. 

 

Okay, so we need cereal, more of that Top Ramen shit, milk, eggs- I'm gonna need to write a list. I hate lists. They make me feel like a mom. It starts with lists to the grocery store and then next thing you know I'm wearing Levis and calling Target “Tarjay” and Walmart “Wally-World”.

 

I need to take one for the team, though, cause there's no way in hell I'm gonna remember what I need to get. And if that Marco guy is there I definitely 

 

I type everything into my phone's notepad, grab my wallet and keys, and leave.

 

* * *

 

The grocery store is a mess, as always. I get lucky, though, and find a parking spot close to the front of the lot. A few were injured in the process of me getting that spot, mainly egos and a shopping cart, but I have emerged victorious.

 

My frustration grows when I get inside. It's Sunday, people. Shouldn't this be your day of rest? Go home and let me do my shopping in peace.

 

I guess I might sort of deserve it for abandoning my homework like always. My procrastination is out of hand, I'll admit, but I don't think I should be punished this severely for it.

 

By some miracle, I manage to get everything on the list plus a few extras without having a total meltdown in the middle of the aisle.

 

Unfortunately, I have too many items for self check out, which means I have to go to an actual checkstand. I hate going through those cause the people always want to ask you questions they don't care to hear the answer to. Alas, I have no choice.

 

I choose the shortest line I can, and of course it's with the short intimidating guy who looks like he's gonna slash your throat. He's been here since the dawn of time (AKA as long as I can remember), and his face hasn't changed a bit. It's fuckin' creepy if I'm being honest.

 

Lady Luck appears to be smiling on me today, though, because right before I get up to the checkstand, shorty leaves. Good. I didn't want to have him stare disapprovingly at my dietary choices.

 

Instead, he's replaced by Marco. He notices me right away and smiles a little. I feel my face involuntarily flush, and give him a small wave in return. Of all the damn workers in this store, of course I would have to face him again. We're not on bad terms, but like, seriously? This is still gonna be awkward. Go to hell, Lady Luck. I'll have shorty back.

 

It's my turn, and I push my cart up to him. He picks up the first couple of items and looks back at me. “Hey, uh..?” He looks at me expectantly, and it's then I realize he doesn't know my name.

 

“Jean.” I say, bringing up a hand to rub the back of my neck. Marco's expression changes. He looks almost nervous.

 

“Sorry, I can't really tell what you said?” Of course not. Hearing people could barely say my name correctly. How could I expect Marco to be able to get it from reading my lips?

 

“I don't.. know...” I can't sign. I look at the phone in my hands, and put up a finger for him to wait. I type into the notepad my name and show it to him.

 

His grin is back on his face, and I feel a bit relieved. “Jean! Got it. I'm Marco.”

 

I try-- and fail-- to stop myself from rolling my eyes. “I know.” I say, and point to his name tag. Marco laughs, but it's totally obvious that he's embarrassed.

 

He continues to scan my items, and it's awkward all over again. I put my phone back into my pocket and look at some of the magazines. Should I say something? Ease the tension again? No, it ain't my problem if the guy thinks I don't like him.

 

But at the same time, I don't want him to not like me? He seems okay, and I'd really prefer to not make enemies with the person who touches my food.

 

I move my hand in front of his face to get his attention. When he looks at me, I speak. “So, you just started here, huh?”

 

He perks up again, and nods. “Yeah, I moved here a couple of weeks ago and started last week, I think.” He laughs to himself and looks down. “Actually the day you were about to punch me in the face was my first official day on my own.”

 

Wow, way to twist the knife, Marco. Am I really gonna have to relive this everyday? “Of course it was.” I mutter, looking down to make sure he doesn't see. “So, where did you come from?”

 

“Well, you know Jean, when a mommy and daddy love each other very much...” He starts, and I almost reach across the counter to smack him on the back of the head. In a totally friendly way, of course.

 

“Oh my god stop right there. You know what I meant.” This doesn't keep Marco from laughing, and it's so loud that I can't help but start laughing, too. This kid might actually be sassier than me. And that's saying something.

 

Once the laughter subsides, Marco answers. “Jinae. It's kinda far from here. I came here to be closer for college.” He scans the last item and looks up at the screen. “$83.56.”

 

First off: Holy shit that's a lot more than I expected. Connie better make this last. Second: College? I know, I know. I shouldn't be surprised. He has a job and everything and has probably been deaf his whole life, so he's found a way to work around it. I hand him my card and start to load my groceries back into the cart.

 

“What college are you going to?” I ask him as I sign the pad.

 

“Uh, I'm going to Southkeep. It's a college for deaf adults.” He replies, and hands me my receipt. Huh. I didn't even know that there was a deaf college around these parts. I go to ask him what he's studying, but suddenly he's frozen and looking off to the left. I turn just in time to see shorty signing something at him. Marco signs something in return and looks back at me, a little crestfallen. “Sorry, gotta get to the next customer before Levi rips off my head and shoves it in the frozen vegetable section.”

 

Whoa, that's grim. I want to protest, but I'm really not _that_ disappointed. I'll be back at some point and we could talk more then. “Of course, dude.” I reply, moving around to the shopping cart. “I'll see ya around!” Marco nods, the bummed look not leaving his expression.

 

I go to my car, my mind still lingering on our conversation. We could have talked a little bit longer. What if I had a question about a charge on my receipt? There's no way that asshole knew that I didn't.

 

Whatever, whatever. It's seriously not that big of a deal. It was busy, there was a line, fine. That guy is lucky I didn't kick his ass though. Scary be damned.

 

* * *

 

I'm welcomed back to Connie sitting on the couch, playing Call Of Duty. Here I am, five bags on each arm and two gallons of milk in my hand, and my asshole of a friend doesn't even bother to help me. “I texted you, dick.” I grit through my teeth as I trudge to the kitchen.

 

Connie pauses and looks at his phone. “Oh, shit. You did. Sorry.” He stands up and stretches, then comes into the kitchen to help me unpack.

 

“Yeah, sure you are.” I retort.

 

Connie grunts in reply. “So, Reiner, Bert, Annie and I were about to start killin' it on COD. You in?”

 

I bump the door of the fridge shut with my hip. “Hell yeah.”

 

I should be studying that melon guy, but at this point I'm too annoyed to focus. Shooting some people in the head is definitely a better option. I'll deal with the consequences of not having my work done tomorrow.

 

We settle down on the couch, headsets on and ready to go. Annie, Reiner, Bert, Connie, and I start up a game of Zombies. Not gonna lie, I fucking hate zombies. They give me crazy anxiety. Like, they're dead, they need to stay dead.

 

I almost tell them to pick something else, but I know it's only gonna lead to Reiner giving me shit.

 

“Johnny boy!” Renier booms into my ears. Speaking of the devil. The way he pronounces my name is enough to make my blood curdle. “Ready to kick some zombie ass?”

 

“Are you kidding me?” Connie cuts in with a laugh. “He looks like he's gonna piss himself and we haven't even started yet.”

 

“Fuck you, Connie.” I flip him off. They all know about how much I hate this damn thing.

 

“Are we going to play or is this my grandmother's tea party?” A monotone voice cuts in.

 

“Annie's right, guys. Let's play. Jean- if you get too scared you can hide in a corner, okay?” Bertolt adds, earning a laugh from Reiner and Connie.

 

“Okay, assholes, let's get this over with.” Goddamn. This is why I never tell my friends anything ever.

 

The game is terrifying, to say the least. I try to hold in my gasps when zombies appear behind me, not that they would have heard me anyway. They're too busy yelling at each other about where the box is.

 

At the end, I'm feeling a lot more on edge than I should have been. It's a fucking game, I shouldn't be so scared of it. It's not like zombies are even real.

 

“You're quiet there, Johnny.” Reiner points out as we go through selecting a different game. “You scared?” I swear I'm going to punch him next time I see him.

 

“I have homework to do.” I mutter.

 

“Reiner! Look at what you've done.” Bertolt groans, and I can hear the smack of his hand against Reiner's head. The two bicker back and forth, and I take my headphones off.

 

I know Reiner does it to piss me off (and it works most of the time), and I normally just make sure to kick his ass in the game, but I'm not feeling it tonight.

 

Connie looks at me as I get up, but says nothing. He knows better.

 

I stalk off to my room and lay down on my bed. It's only 7, but I wanna sleep. There's no way that math is gonna get done before tomorrow, anyways. I close my eyes and let my mind wander from zombies, to groceries, to a freckled face.

 

I bet Marco wouldn't have been a dick about zombies.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, Jean, I'm scared of zombies too.
> 
> Somehow I managed to finish this chapter a day earlier than I thought I was gonna. Think about it as an early apology because I don't think next chapter will be up til the end of next week.
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading <3 See you next time!
> 
> You can follow me on Tumblr: functual.tumblr.com (personal) and welcomehomeholmes.tumblr.com (fandom)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'll drop out of college right now. I'll do it.

Whoever came up with the brilliant idea of starting classes before ten in the morning needs to be sent to a deserted island for the remainder of their life. This shit sucks. It doesn't help that I'm currently stuck in math on this _wonderful_ Monday morning. Let's not forget that I didn't even do my assigned work so I really have no idea what's going on and this douche of a professor doesn't help you unless you let him insult your intelligence first.

 

I am a bucket full of goddamn sunshine.

 

I stare down at my notebook in front of me. In it there are a few formulas I've written down, but the page is mainly filled with doodles. Okay, so it's completely my fault that I don't know what's going on. But math is so horrible and boring and linear. I can't stand it.

 

There's a soft snore next to me, and I look over only to see that Connie has passed out again. We're both totally screwed on this final. If I'm not paying attention and neither is he then I have no one to ask for help because everyone else in here is annoying and I'd rather be eaten alive than ask Professor Asshole.

 

I walk with Connie towards the art department. “I'm so screwed for this test. I can understand the basics of math but once he started adding in letters and whatever those squiggly things are, I gave up.” I whine.

 

Connie laughs and shrugs. “If you're so worried about it, ask Armin for help. That's what I'm gonna do.”

 

I raise an eyebrow. “Armin? Like, Annie's Armin?”

 

“Yeah! He's pretty smart. He'd probably be happy to help us.” Connie nods as he pulls out a small bag of beef jerky from his pocket. “It's better than just sitting back.”

 

“Eh, I'll think about it...” I mutter.

 

I don't really know Armin that well. I know that he's been dating Annie since the beginning of the school year and that it's his second year here, too. That's pretty much it. Hell, I hardly see the dude. He only eats with us every now and then and I still don't say much to him when he does.

 

Connie offers me some of the jerky, and I shake my head no. There's no telling how long he's had that thing stashed in his pocket. We part ways at the art building, and I go back to our dorm.

 

I don't have another class until one, but I know that The Gang (shut up it's cool) and I are supposed to meet up for lunch at some point before then. If Armin joins us, then I guess I'll ask if Connie does too.

 

* * *

 

 

Sure enough at eleven I get a group text from Reiner.

 

**Reiner**

ok what r we doin for lunch today

 

**Annie**

I don't care, but it has to be something quick. Armin has class at 12:30.

 

**Me**

idk we havent had pizza in a long time

 

**Connie**

HELL YEAH LETS GET PIZZA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

**Reiner**

eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh im not rly feelin like pizza today

 

**Bert**

that's cuz you ate 1 ½ of one on your own last night!

 

**Connie**

WELL I havent had pizza in like 2 days so i want it >:|

 

**Annie**

Pizza is quick. We're doing pizza.

 

**Reiner**

i was rly hungry bert and u never eat a lot of pizza so stfu

 

**Me**

holy shit reiner stop bein a baby were gonna have pizza

 

**Reiner**

were goin to fight today johnny boy watch ur back

 

**Bert**

reiner stop threatening your friends D: !!

 

**Annie**

We are getting pizza at 11:30.

 

I stop paying attention after, cause I know from here on out it's only gonna be Reiner bitching about how he doesn't want pizza. Annie will tell him too bad and threaten to kick his ass and he'll shut up because she might actually do it.

 

I get to the restaurant at 11:30 as discussed and find Annie, Bert, and Reiner already sitting at a table. I walk up to them with a smile, only to have Reiner flip me off. Normally shit like that pisses me off, but I've known Reiner long enough to know that it's his way of greeting me.

 

I take a seat across from him and pick up the menu as Connie walks in.

 

“Who's ready for some mother fuckin' pizza!” He sings, taking the seat next to mine. Reiner mutters something under his breath, earning a light smack to the side of his head from Bert. Apparently Connie is the only one in a good mood.

 

“How many you gonna order today, Connie? Three? Four?” I tease.

 

“I dunno, Jean. I'm feeling pretty adventurous today I think I might go for five.” He replies with a wide grin and a wiggle of his eyebrows.

 

We talk for a few minutes, mainly complaining about the sudden workload we all have, when Armin joins us finally. He greets Annie with a peck on the cheek, and I grimace. I've known her for a while, and to see her let someone other than Reiner or Bert touch her is weird, to say the least.

 

It's not until after we've all ordered when Connie brings up our math woes.

 

“Dude, you gotta help Jean and I with math. It's making no sense.” He whines, spreading his upper half across the table, lower lip stuck out in a pout.

 

“Uh, we aren't in the same math class?” Armin's obviously caught off guard. His mouth literally drops a bit, and I can almost hear Annie's eyes rolling I try to dodge her gaze by staring down at the drink in front of me.

 

Connie sits up straight, nudging me as he does. “Nah, you're lightyears ahead of us. That's why _we_ want _you._ ”

 

“Maybe if you two would stop sleeping in class you would know what's going on.” Annie interjects.

 

“Hey! Jean doesn't sleep. You're just naturally thick, aren't you?” Connie nudges me again, and I meet his face with a glare.

 

“Okay, wow, fuck you too.” I reply, flicking the side of his head. “Seriously though. I don't really get anything in that class...”

 

“A-Actually...” Armin looks between the three of us with a small smile, “A few of my other friends and I are having a study group on Wednesday at 6, since finals are coming up. If you guys want you could join?”

 

Oh God Armin you are a goddamn saint I promise at some point I will make an effort to actually talk to you.

 

“You are a lifesaver, Armin.” Connie voices with a clap of his hands.

 

“Of course, Bert and Reiner, you guys are invited too!” He glances at the two, who had been having a conversation of their own.

 

Reiner waves a hand of dismissal. “Nah, we've actually been studying and kinda know what's going on.”

 

Bert raises his eyebrows and laughs. “He means _I_ know what's going on. Besides, our show is on that day.”

 

Of course they have a show they watch together. Only they would.

 

“Fair enough,” Armin nods, then looks at me. “So, are you in, Jean?”

 

“Yeah, sure.” I shrug, trying to be nonchalant about it even though I'm tickled pink at the thought of understanding what the hell is going on. Maybe there's hope for me yet with this.

 

* * *

 

 

Why did I agree to this? Who the hell agrees to do a group study for math after a day packed with classes? Me, apparently. I don't know what I was thinking. By the time chemistry, my second class, rolls around, my brain is almost fried. They shove all of this last minute information down your throat and somehow I'm supposed to make sense of it.

 

At least Sculpting II, my last class, is easy. I could ace that class with my eyes closed and one hand tied behind my back.

 

Even so, I almost text Connie and tell him that I can't do it. After today I'm not sure that my brain can handle math formulas. He texts me first, though, and tells me we're going to meet at our room and then drive to Armin's apartment. I groan, but ultimately I really, really need the help. My dad's gonna kill me if he finds out that I failed math again.

 

So at 5:30, I crawl into Connie's beat up pick up truck. I have to manage to stay awake and retain at least a little information. I'll be like that Little Engine That Could.

 

We arrive a little after 6, and go up to the third floor to Armin's apartment. Connie's talking about something and knocking on the door. I'm half asleep when it finally opens, revealing a chipper Armin.

 

“Ah! Finally! We've been waiting for you!” He greets.

 

“What? We're only fifteen minutes late!” Connie complains as he walks in. I trail close behing.

 

“Yeah, ' _only'._ ” Armin retorts with a laugh. He leads us into the living room, where five other people sit.

 

My eyes are drawn to a girl with short black hair and a red scarf wrapped loosely around her neck and suddenly I'm wide awake. She's... wow. She's hot. I put on my flashiest grin as Armin introduces us, my eyes never leaving her face. I try to say something witty when a familiar voice reaches my ears.

 

“Hey! It's you!”

 

I look to who spoke, only to see Marco with that goofy grin on his face. What a fucking coincidence. He turns to the angry looking boy sitting next to him, waving his hand. The girl with the scarf turns towards him to, her expression still blank. Another girl with her hair pulled up into a ponytail looks over to. “This is the guy I was telling you about the other day. The one who yelled at me the first day?” As he speaks his hands move in what I can only assume to be sign language.

 

The angry guy looks at me with such an intense glare, I feel like I would have dropped dead right there if it was possible. He signs something back to Marco, looks at me, and flips me off.

 

“Whoa, what the fuck man?” I start, my blood starting to boil. I have literally never met this guy before and he flips me off? Hell no. “What the hell did he say?” I look over at Marco, who's now standing up.

 

“Hey, hey! Eren, c'mon! He apologized... I told you that.” He tries, nervously looking between the two of us.

 

Eren rolls his eyes and signs something else at me again, and this time Armin steps in. They start signing back and forth, Armin's mouth moving as he does so.

 

I want to go home all of a sudden, and I turn to Connie to ask him if we can, only to find he's no longer standing beside me. Instead he's on the floor next to the ponytail girl, harassing her for the bag of chips in front of her. Fine. I'll walk.

 

Before I can move again, though, Marco grabs my arm. “I'm sorry about that.” He apologizes quietly. “I told them about what happened, but I also told them you had apologized to me. It's just...” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “It's just sometimes Eren isn't so forgiving of hearing people. Y'know, some of them are real big assholes because they can be and he doesn't think you're really sorry.”

 

“Well, fuck him then. What did he say?” I demanded. I want to know what he said so I can have evidence to back myself up when I kick his ass later. Deaf or not that kid is a dick. Of course, I didn't say this out loud.

 

“It doesn't matter. Ignore him, okay? Please?”

 

I eye Marco for a moment, then groan. “Fine.” I concede. “That doesn't mean I'll forget.” I'll still kick his ass one of these days.

 

Within the next ten minutes I'm sitting opposite of the girl in the red scarf—Mikasa— at the coffee table. I'm trying to go over this math packet, but I keep getting distracted by her. There's something about her eyes, and that hair. It's so shiny and-

 

“You're staring.” Marco grins. When I look over at him, he's got that same dumb smile on his face. Immediately my face flushes. Dammit.

 

“I wouldn't put too much time into it. I've known her since I was thirteen and she's never shown interest in anyone.” He continues and moves so he's sitting next to me. “Plus that's Eren's sister. So.” Of course!

 

“I was- ah- she-” I sputter. Smooth. Really smooth. This earns me a laugh from Marco, which only makes my face turn redder. Could this day possibly get any more wonderful?

 

Once his small laughing fit subsides, he pats my shoulder. “I'm kidding! Don't be so embarrassed.”

 

When I don't reply, he looks down at my paper. “Um, that's... not right. At all. Here, lemme show you.” He takes my paper and erases my work. I sigh but let him anyways. This is what I came here for, after all.

 

Somewhere along the line I get bored again, so I decide to ask Marco a bit about himself. I wave a hand until he sees me. “So, you told me you're going to college, but you never said for what.” I twirl my pen between my fingers, head resting in one of my hands.

 

“Oh! I'm majoring in culinary arts. But Southkeep doesn't offer those kinds of classes so I'm also going to Trost University. They have this program for us deaf guys who want to take special classes that aren't offered there.” He explains. “So I moved here with Eren and Mikasa instead of staying with my parents so that I could be closer to the university.”

 

Huh. “Are you good at cooking then? Cause I'm kinda sick and tired of eating microwaved frozen pizza every night.”

 

Marco's cheeks flush a little at that. “Uh, yeah. I mean, I guess so. Eren and Mikasa like it so, yeah.” He goes back to looking at his textbook, and so I figure that means the conversation is over. Fine, then.

 

Eventually everyone's had enough for one night. I manage to get most of my math work done thanks to Marco and Armin. Connie hardly did any work, which doesn't surprise me. He spent most of our time there talking to the girl in the ponytail and eating. Whatever. I got my shit taken care of and I kind of understand it more so I'm good.

 

Armin and Annie kick us all out of the apartment without so much as a goodbye. Connie and ponytail exchange numbers, and finally we're on our way back to the dorms.

 

I greet my bed by flopping down face-first into the pillows. I barely get my pants and shirt off before I'm out.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //drops dead  
> I've finished it, finally! Took a bit longer than I had expected, but it's done. Hope you liked it u wu
> 
> Thank you for reading, as always~!
> 
> You can follow me on Tumblr: welcomehomeholmes.tumblr.com and functual.tumblr.com

**Author's Note:**

> First off: I'd just like to say any knowledge I have on ASL as well as the deaf community comes from both personal experience and research off of the internet. If there's anything on here that is wildly inaccurate, please let me know (nicely) in the comments below, send me a message, w/e!
> 
> Ahhh thank you so much for reading! ; w;
> 
> I hope to have the next chapter out sometime next week, but we'll see!
> 
> Feel free to follow me on tumblr: functual.tumblr.com (personal) or welcomehomeholmes.tumblr.com (fandom)
> 
> See you next time <3


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